Hero in Our Midst
by WolfKael
Summary: Link's daughter, Saria (OOT Reference! I'm so creative!...Not.) muses over how people treat her father, the Mayor of Ordon. Why do soldiers seem so nervous around the head of a tiny farming village? Why has Queen Zelda summoned him to her castle? What are the older villagers not telling her about her dad! T for possible mentions of alcohol in later chapters.
1. Summons

Saria absentmindedly pats the old mare's silvery mane as she watches the soldiers from Castletown speak with her father. They come every once in a while, usually escorting merchants, and she has always noticed something peculiar.

They are afraid of him.

They always use the most respectful tones and take great care not to anger the affable chief of Ordon Village. She just can't understand what they're so afraid of. Her father isn't easily angered, and they're Hyrulian soldiers – surely they can't be afraid of a farmhand!

She'd asked her mother, Ilia, about it and all she'd gotten was a cryptic smile.

"It's respect too," she'd smiled, continuing to weave the wicker bassinet for her next child.

She watches them bow and leave before she jogs over to where her father sits on the porch. His dark blond hair has a few gray strands – from a life of exertion, Ilia had once said. Saria isn't exactly sure of what she meant by that, but all of the villagers had agreed. She knows that they aren't telling her something, and it infuriates her even as she sits on her steps, waiting to ask him what the soldiers had come for.

"Are you going?" her mother asks, leaning against a wooden pillar, "She _has_ summoned you, after all."

He sighs, "I know."

"_She_? Who?" Saria questions, glancing rapidly back-and-forth between the two, "Going where?"

He laughs, "I've been summoned to the castle by Queen Zelda," he explains.

"What for?"

"It'll only be for a week or so," Ilia interjects, "I'll be fine, Link," she strokes her distended stomach, "We still have a month. Not only that, but we have my dad, Rusl, and Uli. I can live without you for a week."

He smiles gently, defeated, and stands, "I suppose I'll start packing then."

"Are you taking Epona?" Saria asks with a pout, knowing that they had purposely avoided her question.

"No," he sighs, patting the mare's nose affectionately, "She's tired. No more charging across all of Hyrule for her. She's earned a peaceful life at the ranch. I'll take Ganni," he replied. Ganni was the older of Epona's offspring, a palomino like his mother, and just as big.

"Link, just promise me one thing," Ilia began, but he pressed a finger to her lips with a smirk.

"Careful. Remember what happened the last time you said that?" his hand falls before he pulls her into a tight embrace, "I'll come home safely."

Saria watches as he disappears into the house, "I'll go get Ganni," she mutters, tromping away. The stable is attached to the goat barn, and she has to dodge a goat running hastily away from Fado. She can't help but snort – honestly, that man and his goats! It's a miracle that someone else hasn't been permanently installed up there to keep an eye on things.

"Saria? What are you up to?"

A grin splits her face, "Uncle Colin!"

He stands in the doorway, his blond hair cropped shorter than it had been in his youth, and his blue eyes shining with amusement. A sword is strapped to his back – fitting for the town's best swordsman. Rusl, she's been told, had once held the title, but with his age, he was no match for his son.

"Hey," he grins back, "Why're you getting Ganni? He's a bit big for you, kiddo."

She pouts playfully, "I'm not a little kid; I'm already sixteen."

"Right. Hey, still a few more years until you'd be world-saving age," he teases.

Saria can't help but sigh at that comment. It wasn't an unusual one in town, she had to admit, and it was usually associated with sly glances at her dad, "I'm getting him for Dad; apparently he's been summoned by the queen."

"Again? What is it this time? Gorons and Zoras arguing again?"

She heaves the saddle onto the steed, "They didn't say why. And why would they ask my dad to help with the Gorons and Zoras?"

Colin shifts nervously, "He's…friendly with them, and Renado was on a month-long sabbatical."

She eyes him skeptically, but turns away to tighten the strap, "Well, it must be something along those lines. I mean, if she wanted a swordsman, she would've asked the best one in Ordon!"

He lets out a bark of laughter, "Oh, she did," he stops suddenly, as though he'd said too much.

"My dad isn't better than you," she insists, "I doubt he's really even held a sword."

All laughter falls from Colin's face, frightening her for a second, "Oh, he's done _a lot_ more than that," he steps closer and ruffles her hair, "_trust me_."

She waits in stunned silence until he grins again.

"Anyway, I guess you should probably get Ganni to him – he's probably packed already. He doesn't waste time. Get going!"


	2. What They've Seen

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Legend of Zelda or any branch thereof! Thank you for being patient for your updates! Just some fun with Telma. ;)**

* * *

A crowd is gathered around the bar, listening to the keep's tale. She's a sturdy woman with a flirtatious sparkle in her eye, and a teasing smile. She doles out the drinks as she speaks, "She couldn't remember even her name –"

Saria watches the orange pulp in her own cup swirl around from beneath her hood, not listening. It's the eighth day since her father left, but word had come from the palace that he would be staying a little longer. Her mother had refused to explain further, but she hadn't seemed worried.

So she'd come to Castletown.

She'd been able to sneak in with a group of merchants who didn't recognize her as the mayor's daughter. They'd encountered a few weak monsters. It was mysterious, she muses, taking a sip; Epona hadn't seemed worried at all at the sight of the monsters. In fact, she'd lashed out with her hooves and one of the few hired guards with the wagon had sworn on his sister's life that she'd been trained like a warhorse; he even proved it, showing her that the horse could be directed with only his knees, in order to keep the hands free. Though it'd taken some practice, she could now use a bow on the mare's back.

She'd heard Rusl speak of Telma - the owner of the tavern - before, and after paying for Epona's stable, had been able to find the bar after some asking around. All of the citizens assumed she was a daughter searching for a drunken father to drag him home. She resists the urge to snort.

"The King Bulbin stalked across the bridge," Telma relays, "I turned to him and said, 'You see what that means? You'll have to deal with that thing!' He didn't look worried at all. Now, as I said, he was a quiet lad, so I could barely hear him say, 'I've defeated him once, I can do it again.' His eyes were calm and cold. When we reached to wagons, I told the girl, 'This swordsman of ours has great eyes, honey. They're proud and wild…like a feral beast. We need a beast right now, to keep the true ones at bay.' And so, it didn't take us long to reach the bridge. And when he did, that monster made a point of showing him some thick shields on his arms. I realized he'd been telling the truth – they _had_ fought before. The swordsman rode onto the bridge without hesitation, but instead of drawing his sword, he removed his bow from his pack and notched an arrow," Even Saria has stopped in her musings to listen to the story. She leaned over the bar.

"And so," Telma whispered conspiratorially, "the joust began. The King Bulbin upon his great boar, and the hero soaring upon the back of his horse; they charged at each other, and he lifted his bow. He hardly had to aim. He let the arrow fly, and it struck true – with a clap of thunder!"

"Bomb arrows, huh?" A man on the other side of the counter smirked into his mug, "Doesn't pull his punches, does he?"

"The Bulbin remained on his mount, and they turned to face each other again. A second time, a second thunderclap. The hero remained unscathed. His eyes were still cold and focused. The third time, the boar careened out of control, sending its master over the edge. I could see the key glint in the air, and the hero caught it with ease. His prize was a key to Karkariko's gate. We continued on," her voice began to raise, "through hoards of bulbins with fiery arrows. His sword glowed coldly as he cut through them. They would fire into the wagon, setting it alight, but then a cool breeze – like the breath of Farore herself! – would snuff it out. In the blink of an eye, he would draw his bow and fire, shooting down a bird that tried to divert our path. The bulbins fell in bloody waves with each swing of his sword! He dismounted and opened Karkariko's gate, allowing us through while he dealt with any would-be pursuers. I remember when he came into town after us," her eyes are distant, and also somehow sad, her voice is quiet, "I could see him at a spring before he came to greet us. There were children there in Karkariko who looked up to him, and I don't think he wanted them to see. For anyone to see. His green tunic was splattered with blood, and he had a nasty cut on his shoulder from a flaming arrow. The spring, though, seemed to wash it all away, leaving him without a stain. Even as I watched, the tunic was repaired, the tears and cuts suddenly gone, as though never there," the entire tavern has gone quiet, and Saria realizes that she is holding her breath.

"So you've met…_him_," a man breathes, "The Hero of the Twilight. The one who saved us. The man chosen by The Goddesses."

The barkeep nods in silence, eliciting a quiet gasp from the group.

"…What does he look like?" Saria hardly recognizes her own voice.

"I can't tell you," Telma replies gently, "He's a very private man. I won't describe him or name him. Any of you could have passed him here in Castletown or while travelling about. He wasn't a hero for the glory. All he wanted to do was to protect those he cared about. He's earned his rest. His peace and quiet. A life with his family. It's hard to believe," she mutters, "That it's been eighteen years," she looks up from the bar and then glances at the clock, "Don't you people have work in the morning? Bar's closing. Off with you!"

They scramble for the door, but Saria remains seated until they're alone. Telma turns to her, her hands on her hips, "It's way past your bedtime, kiddo," she remarks.

"I'm told you know Rusl?"

Telma's eyes widen, "Din's Fire! Are you from…Ordon?"

Saria pulls her hood down, "I figured you might be able to –" She's pulled into a hug.

"Oh, you must be Saria! You look so much like your mom when I first met her. Your dad was telling me about you and – _Oh!_" She takes her shoulders and holds her away, "He's going to be _mad _at _you_ for coming across the field. You didn't get hurt, did you?!"

"I'm fine, Telma," she assuages, "…and my dad was here?"

"Yeah, a few nights ago, grumbling about his stay here being extended," she chuckles, "he was promised it'd be only a week, but…well…"

"…why would Queen Zelda summon my dad anyway?" She asks.

She looks startled – very briefly – before resuming her smile, "Well, it's not unusual for Queens to discuss affairs with the mayors of far-off towns on occasion. They're probably discussing _trade_," she grimaces, but it quickly vanishes, "So, how's your mom? Link was saying that she's expecting again? It's been a long time since she got this far along in the pregnancy," a flicker of pain in her face, "Well?"

"She's doing just fine. Uli's got her confined to the bed, though," Saria tries to repress a smile, "It's driving Mom crazy."

Telma laughs heartily, "Yeah. Uli must be able to teach mules and rocks a lesson," she snorts, "Ilia is deceptively stubborn," she shakes her head, "So I assume you're here to see your dad?"

Saria stares at the floor, "I'm just…curious. Besides," she looks up brightly, "I've always wanted to see Castletown, so why not-?"

"Spy on your father?" Telma cuts blandly, earning a sheepish smile, "Do you have a place to stay?"

"…No," Saria admits, "I used most of my money to get a stable for Epona."

Telma shakes her head, "Well, I suppose you can stay with me. I can't leave Link and Ilia's little girl in the cold, now can I?" She winks with a smirk, "Do you have your stuff?"

Saria shrugs her small pack over her shoulder, muttering, "I'm not a little girl. I'm an adult!" and Telma leads her into the back after locking the tavern door.

"I'd give you the bed, but I need my beauty rest. I'll get some blankets for you."

Saria thanks her and hangs her cloak on a peg beside the fireplace. She catches her reflection in the mirror. She _does_ look like her mother, with light brown hair and a snub nose, but…

"You've got your father's eyes," Telma smiles, "In part, anyway. But I suppose that if your eyes had seen everything his have, they'd be identical pairs. That's the thing about eyes," she dumps a pile of blankets on the rug before the hearth, "It's all about what they've seen."

"And what have my dad's eyes seen?"

"More darkness than anyone. But more light too," she replies, hardly audible, "all hidden in the twilight."


	3. The Bug Princess

Saria wakes as the sun shines through a window, the scratchy wool blanket tangled with her legs. It takes her a moment to remember where she is, until she sees Telma on a bed across the room, snoring heavily. She yawns, standing and folding the blankets.

"You don't have to do that," Telma mutters sleepily, not even opening her eyes, "Just leave 'em, sweetie. I'm guessing that you probably won't be telling Link that you're here yet?"

Saria shoves the blankets onto a chair by a fire, "As you said, he'll be mad at me for coming across the field."

A sigh echoes through the room, "So what are your plans today?"

"Check on Epona, explore Castletown, and find my dad."

"You want to find him, but not for _him_ to find _you_," Telma sits up with a grunt, rubbing sleep from her eyes, "Hon, you're digging yourself a pretty little hole – probably big enough for the both of us."

Saria shuffles her feet uncomfortably, "Well…"

"Oh well," the older woman sighs, "He's probably at the castle, so I don't know how you plan on sneaking in to see him."

"Well, I plan on spending today exploring Castletown, mostly."

"Then have fun," she shuffles over to the fireplace, "I'm going to make myself some tea and prepare for my noon customers."

Saria steps out into the empty tavern, and then the town. It's more noise than she's ever heard, with laughing children in the square and vendors hawking their wares everywhere else. She can see a large tent in the distance, and slips into an alleyway towards it, her eyes are drawn to a woman standing outside in an extravagant dress. Pink butterfly wings sprout from her back and she carries a wicker basket.

Her violet eyes widen as she notices Saria, who looks away quickly, having been caught staring.

"Hey, miss!"

Saria begins to walk away quickly, her cheeks turning red.

A delicate, gloved hand takes her arm, "Hey! I have a question for you!"

She halts in her steps, her head turning slowly to face the blond Hylian with pigtails, "Y-yes?"

"You look like someone I know. A knight in my kingdom!" She giggles, dragging the hapless teen towards her home, "I need some help, and you'll do just fine!"

"Your…kingdom?" Saria asks.

"I should introduce myself," they barge through the door, the first sight inside being a large tree in the center of the room. Golden specks float in the room. Saria is hastily seated, and the woman stands proudly before her.

"My name is Agitha, and I am the Princess of the Bug Kingdom," an elegant curtsy, "And may I ask your name?"

"Saria," she replies, blinking rapidly.

Her father had mentioned that there were…_unusual_ people in Hyrule.

"So, Saria," the 'princess' takes a seat, "I have a favor to ask."

"A favor," the kidnapped girl deadpans, "what would that be?"

"Well, eighteen years ago, I managed to ensure that all of my guests arrived safely to my ball," she points to the gold specks by the tree, and Saria realizes that they're golden _bugs_, "and gain an honorary citizen of my realm, but now I need help again, and I think that _you_ are the one who can assist me."

"Me?"

"Yes," she muses, "You have these eyes…anyway, I'm supposed to meet with the Ambassador of the Cat Kingdom, and mediate treaties between the two of us, as well as the Ambassador of the Dog Kingdom."

Saria stares at the woman, surely younger than her mother by several years, but somehow…off. How old was she, anyway?

"I'm twenty-eight," Agitha replies, "I look younger, don't I? The love of my citizens grants me youth!"

Saria blushes, mortified; she'd spoken aloud?

"So I'm supposed to mediate this treaty, but neither side has shown up yet! I need you to go find them for me! The Ambassador of the Cat Kingdom is Gengle, and the Ambassador of the Dog Kingdom is Tracker. Can you do that for me? Thanks!"

Just as abruptly as she was dragged into the house, Saria is tossed back into the street, more confused than before.

"And I'm supposed to know who they are…how?"

**A/N: Well, I know my updates are short, but you'd have to wait longer for larger chapters. I write my fanfics impulsively, and I also work on writing some original novels as well, so it all kinda depends on my mood. Thank you for your patience and reviews!**


	4. Link

Link does a double-take of the stable to his right. Surely he'd seen incorrectly – he thought he'd seen a stable hand leading Epona inside. He chuckles to himself and shook his head. He's looking for something familiar after so much time here in Castle Town.

He shoves down a fit of worry for Ilia, muttering a prayer to Farore for the safety of her and the baby – she'll shatter if they lose another, and he's not sure if he'll be able to pick up the pieces. She's gotten further than she has since Saria's birth; a good sign, he's certain.

The soldiers at the gate nod their heads briefly in respect as he returns to the castle, the sword on his back hardly noticeable to him even now. He's been practicing in the field, taking care of stray monsters.

Staged duels just aren't enough to prevent his skills from diminishing. Maybe he'll take the knights out today and have them work on real foes – make things easier for merchants, while they're at it. Two birds with one stone.

"Sir Link!" A soldier salutes – one of his trainees.

He returns the gesture briefly, "Pirrot," he greets simply, watching his acknowledgement send the young knight into a fit of pride.

He continues to his quarters to remove his light amount of armor. The familiar weight of chainmail is whisked off with practiced ease, but he can't help but notice how unfamiliar the hilt in his hand feels as he removes the sword to check the edge within the safety of the castle. It's not as heavy as the Master Sword, and its reach is a little shorter. Its balance isn't as perfect, either.

"Then again, I'm comparing a mortal blacksmith's work to a blade forged by Hylia herself," he mutters quietly to himself. He sheathes the blade and slings it casually over his shoulder – he should probably drop it off with the castle's blacksmith, Hagan.

"Well, I suppose it's good to see one of them getting actual use," Hagan sighs, eyeing the microscopic knicks in the blade, "You don't have to use _these_ swords, you know. They're the ones I made for the younger knights – they're just to train with. Ones I have _specifically_ because I expect them to ruin them."

"They're the ones they're using. I don't see why I should get special treatment," he shrugs.

"Because you're their instructor, and you have a good sword upstairs," he replies dryly, "I mean, it's no Master Sword–"

"_Hagan_," Link hisses sharply, glancing around.

"…right, sorry," he inclines his head ever so slightly.

"…I want to make sure I can tell them how to adjust everything with the blades they'll be using. To do that, I need to know it's quirks," he explains simply, "But I'll use _my_ sword next time I go out to train by myself."

He nods absently, approaching the grinding wheel.

Link waits patiently in silence as he works, his eyes scanning the other weapons on the wall, comparing them to his own collection somewhere in the back of his mind.

His green tunic rests deep at the bottom of his supplies, having been dug out of his trunk in Ordon. He doesn't wear it if he can avoid it – such a thing attracts too much attention, and he'll only make use of the sacred garb if necessary.

The only component he still wears is the magic bag, which still carries all of his weapons and supplies. He never travels without it – but only when traveling long distances or when he suspects he may need to fight large amounts of enemies.

He can't but feel as though the Goddesses would frown upon frivolous use of their gifts.

He hates the reverence others hold for him, as though he was capable of becoming a hero by his own power. They forget the Goddesses and the other spirits of this land, and he fears it will someday lead to their destruction.

His soul, the bearer of the Triforce of Courage, will be summoned once again to return Hyrule to prosperity, as it always is. He dreams, every now and then, he dreams of times long passed, times when Karkariko was a bustling mountain town, full of villagers. Frightening times, with a grinning moon looming overhead.

_Am I me, or am I the same hero as all the rest?_ He ponders, watching the sparks fly from the blade as the damage is ground away. He dismisses the thought, having anguished over that very question many nights before. Midna had given him the best advice, camping out in the desert.

_"__Do you _act_ just like them? Do you love the same things they do? No? Then you're not them. You're _you_."_

_"__Then why…why do I have these memories?"_

_"…__perhaps the Triforce of Courage carries them, to help the next hero. I'm not sure. But…will knowing the answer to it all really give you any peace? Will it change anything? Live as yourself, live as your own soul, regardless of whether that's true or not. We can't know – and no Hero ever will."_

_"__Midna…"_

_"__You're going to go grey at this rate. Wait…wait…" she plucks a strand of hair away with a teasing smile, "See? You already have one, and you're not even twenty yet!"_

_"…__It's just the moonlight making it look silver," he asserts._

_"__Maybe, maybe not," she smirks, releasing it to the wind, "Now you'll never know."_

_He can't help but chuckle a little, "Farore's Breath, Midna, that one was caused by _you_. You should've treasured it more."_

_She huffs, her cheeks turning a little pink, "I can handle myself. Stupid Zelda. If we're not careful, she'll turn us _both_ grey. Foolish, light-dwelling princess. Reckless. Triforce of Wisdom – yeah _right_! She's _beyond_ stupid!"_

_He places a hand on her shoulder, "She'll be fine, Midna. Stop fussing – you'll go grey."_

_"__You are _hardly_ in a place to lecture me."_

He smirks, musing on the state of his hair now. She'd been right – a thick line of silver hair brushes back from his temples now, only eighteen years later. He's not even forty. He wonders solemnly about what Midna's been doing since she vanished into her own world, separating the link between the two realms forever.

_Another train of thought that is entirely useless,_ he scolds himself, rising from his ruminations as Hagan sheathes the sword.

"Here you go. Will you be taking them out today? Get them some real experience?"

"I'm thinking so," Link nods, "Thank you, Hagan."

"Thank _you_…Hero."


End file.
